One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (33 page)

“I do believe you, Laura,” he said quietly. “But even a strong faith doesn't make up for the comfort of having a human person to share your life with, a hand to hold, someone to laugh with.”

Laura debated her response. She could just ignore his remark, change the subject. But he was right, and she might as well admit it. With a sigh she conceded the point. “Yeah. I know. But I've learned to handle it.”

Nick watched her closely. The subtle tilt of her chin told him she was struggling for control, and he wondered what could possibly have made her so fearful, so willing to live a life devoid of human tenderness and love.

“This fear you have of relationships is really strong, isn't it?”

“I guess so.”

“I assume there's a very good reason for it.”

She looked at him silently for a moment and then began pulling on her shoes, concentrating on the laces as she spoke. “There is.”

He reached for his own shoes more slowly, sensing that the conversation was at an end, but wanting to ask so much more. Yet he knew that she'd said as much as she planned to for the moment. Maybe more.

They tied their shoes in silence, and then Laura
stood, jamming her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “We ought to start back,” she said, glancing at her watch. “We've been gone almost two hours.”

Nick rose reluctantly and leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. “You don't mind if I keep trying, do you?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“To break down that wall you've built.”

She flushed and turned away. “You're wasting your time, Nick.”

“I'm willing to take my chances.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, wishing he'd just give up and find someone without emotional roadblocks, leaving her in peace, before his persistence eventually wore down her defenses.

Laura spoke very little as they made their way back through the woods. She let Nick lead, and her eyes were drawn to the broad, powerful muscles of his shoulders, his trim waist, the corded tendons of his legs bare beneath his shorts. There was a magnetism about him that was almost tangible, and she found herself imagining what it would feel like to be enveloped in his strong arms, to feel his heartbeat mingling with hers. Lonely? he'd asked her. Oh, if he only knew! So many nights when she'd longed to be held, yearned for a tender touch, a whispered endearment. But always she went to bed alone. And lonely. Suddenly, watching Nick's strong back only inches from her, close enough to touch, a yearning surged through her so strong that she stumbled.

Nick turned instantly and reached out to steady her. “Are you okay, Laura?” he asked, studying her face with a worried frown. He noted the flush on her cheeks
and the film of tears in her eyes, and his hands lingered on her shoulders.

“Yes, I'm fine,” she said breathlessly, her heart hammering in her chest. “I just didn't see that rock.” Her eyes lifted to his, making Nick's heart suddenly go into a staccato rhythm.

It took every ounce of his willpower not to immediately crush her to his chest, to imprison her in his arms and kiss her in ways that would leave her breathless and asking for more. He swallowed, and he realized that his hands were trembling as he struggled for control, trying to decide what to do next.

Laura stared at him, mesmerized by the play of emotions that crossed his face. With one word, one touch, she knew she could unleash the passion smoldering just beneath the surface. And she needed to be held so badly! Held by someone who cared about her, who would love her with a passion tempered by gentleness, who would soothe her with a touch that spoke of caring and commitment. Nick could give her that. Wanted to give her that. It was hers for the taking. She could see it in his eyes.

Without consciously making a decision, Laura slowly reached out a tentative hand. Nick grasped it, his eyes burning into hers, questioning, hoping, and when he pressed her palm to his lips, Laura closed her eyes and moaned softly, surrendering to the tide of emotion sweeping over her. She moved forward, inviting herself into his arms, waiting for the touch of his lips—

A sudden crashing of brush made her gasp, and, startled, she spun around as his arms protectively encircled her. A doe and fawn were hovering uncertainly only a few yards away, standing perfectly still, only their
ears twitching. They remained motionless for a long moment, and then with one last, nervous look at the intruders, they bolted into the thicket.

Laura let her breath out slowly. She was shaking badly, not just because of the unexpected interruption, but because of what she'd almost done. She now knew why she'd been so reluctant to spend time alone with Nick. Just being in his presence awakened long-dormant impulses in her, impulses best left untouched. Another few minutes and she… She closed her eyes, refusing to allow her imagination any further rein. She didn't believe in casual intimacy. Never had. It went against every principle she held. But she'd never been so tempted in her life. She needed to be touched, to be held, to be loved, and the power of those compelling physical needs had stunned her. The Bible was right, she thought ruefully. The flesh really was weak. Maybe the sudden appearance of the deer had been God's way of giving her the time she needed to clear her head and make the right decision, difficult as it was.

Taking a deep breath she stepped away, and Nick's hands dropped from her shoulders. Immediately she missed his touch, missed the warmth of his hands that had penetrated her thin cotton blouse. The loss of contact was almost tangibly painful. But it was for the best, she told herself resolutely.

Turning to face him was one of the most difficult things Laura had ever done in her life. He was standing absolutely still, except for the unusually rapid rise and fall of his chest, and he looked shaken and grim. But he composed himself, running a hand through his hair and forcing his lips up into a semblance of a smile.

“Talk about bad timing,” he said jokingly, his voice husky and uneven.

Laura brushed back a few tendrils of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “We'd better get back,” she said choppily.

“Laura…”

He reached out a hand, but she ignored the gesture. “Come on,” she said simply. She brushed past him, walking with long determined strides toward the road.

Frustration and disappointment washed over him as he watched her retreating back. The moment was gone. But he had some consolation. The longing he'd seen in her eyes left him with hope. It wasn't much, but it was something. With a sigh he watched Laura disappear around a curve, and then forced himself to follow more slowly. At the rate she was going, she'd be back at the house before he even emerged from the woods.

He was surprised to find her waiting for him when he reached the road. “I can find my way back if you'd rather go on ahead,” he said quietly.

“No. I'm sorry, Nick. That was rude of me. I'll walk with you.”

She fell into step beside him, an introspective frown on her face, and though Nick tried a couple of times to lighten the mood, Laura was unresponsive and he finally gave up, lapsing into silence.

Once back, Laura's attempts to keep him at arm's length intensified. He wasn't able to say more than a few words to her in private the rest of the evening or the next morning. He realized she was running scared, frightened by what had almost happened in the woods, afraid to let that opportunity arise again. He resigned
himself to the fact that the best he could hope for was to sit next to her at dinner.

By the time he filled his plate and made his way toward one of the long tables set up in the yard, however, Laura had already found a seat between her niece and her brother. As Nick surveyed the situation, juggling his plate in one hand and a lemonade in the other, John caught his eye. Nick quirked one eyebrow in Laura's direction, and John nodded imperceptibly.

“Susan, where's your fork?” John asked, leaning around Laura.

“Gone,” she said, pointing under the table.

“I'll get her another one,” Laura volunteered.

“Thanks, Sis.”

As Laura headed for the buffet table, Nick made his move, slipping into Laura's seat. “I owe you one,” he said quietly to John.

John grinned. “Laura needs a shove. She's a slow mover,” he said.

“So I've noticed.”

Laura was so busy talking to her aunt that she didn't realize her seat was occupied until she reached the table, whereupon she stopped short, glaring suspiciously at her brother when he turned.

“Oh, Laura. Nick was looking for a seat. We had plenty of room here.” He scooted over, and Nick did likewise, leaving space for Laura to join them.

“I don't want to crowd you,” she said crossly, reaching for her plate. “I'll go sit with Mom.”

“We don't mind being crowded,” Nick said, grasping her hand.

Laura looked around. They were beginning to attract attention, and the amused glances being sent her way
made her cheeks flame. With a sigh, she squeezed in beside Nick.

“There. Now isn't this cozy?” John said brightly.

Laura gave him a withering glance. “Just whose side are you on?” she whispered between clenched teeth.

“Yours,” he replied in a low voice.

She gave an unladylike snort and picked up her corn. She could feel Nick's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. She knew she was acting like a coward, running away from a situation she was afraid of instead of facing it. Common sense told her she couldn't put off being alone with him forever. They'd be in the car together tomorrow for three hours, for goodness' sake. But at least while he was driving, his eyes and hands would be otherwise occupied, no matter what his inclinations, she thought dryly, slathering butter on her corn.

Suddenly a large bronzed hand entered her field of vision and removed the corn from her grasp. Startled, Laura turned to look at Nick, who had raised the corn to his lips.

Mesmerized, she watched as his strong white teeth took a bite of corn. Then he licked his lips and smiled with satisfaction.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked hoarsely, the sensuous dance of his tongue holding her spellbound.

“Nibbling your ear,” he said softly, his words implying one thing, his eyes another. Her mouth suddenly went dry and she reached for her glass of lemonade and took a large swallow. He leaned closer. “This will have to do until the real thing becomes available,” he added quietly.

Laura choked on the lemonade, which once more
put her in the limelight. Curious gazes were directed her way, and then she felt Nick's arm go around her shoulder solicitously. Her face was flaming, and she dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin.

“Are you okay, Laura?”

“Yes.” She coughed. “I'm fine.”

“You don't sound fine.”

“I said I'm fine,” she repeated grimly, shrugging off his arm.

“Okay. Do you want your corn back?”

“No. You keep it.”

“Thanks.”

Laura ate as fast as she could, bypassed dessert and left the table to join in a game of croquet. Nick watched her go and then sent John a despairing look.

“I'm beginning to wonder if she likes me,” he said.

“Oh, she likes you. You make her as nervous as a cat in its ninth life. If she didn't like you, you wouldn't have any effect on her at all.”

“You think so?” Nick asked doubtfully.

“Mmm-hmm. I know my sister.”

“Has she always been like this around men?”

“Laura hasn't been around men much, Nick,” John said, giving the other man a frank look. “Just Joe. He was her first and only beau, as far as I know.”

“So you're attributing her skittishness to inexperience?”

“Partly,” John hedged.

“It's the other part I wonder about,” Nick said, directing a level gaze at John.

“I don't know much else myself, Nick,” John said apologetically. “Laura's always been closemouthed about her private affairs.”

“Yeah. So I've discovered.” Nick sighed.

“Hang in there,” John encouraged him. “You're making progress.”

“Yeah?”

“She let you drive her down here, didn't she?”

“She was desperate,” Nick said with a shrug.

“That's not the only reason. She wouldn't share her family with someone she didn't care about.”

Nick thought about John's words later that night as he prepared for bed. The weekend hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned, but he had learned a lot about Laura's roots and her family. And if John was right, there was still hope for him.

Restlessly he strolled over to the window, trying to catch a breath of air. The second-floor bedroom was especially stuffy tonight, and the ceiling fan didn't seem to be helping at all. Even though it was eleven o'clock, the oppressive heat hadn't relented. He ought to go to bed. The house was quiet, so apparently everyone else had. But he knew sleep would be elusive. Maybe if he got some fresh air, cooled off a little, sleep would come more easily, he thought.

Nick stepped into the hall, quietly closing the door behind him, and made his way down the steps, cringing as the wood creaked. But it didn't seem to disturb anyone, he decided, pausing to listen for stirrings in the house, so he continued down and headed for the back porch, holding the screen door so it wouldn't bang. It
was
cooler out here, he thought, taking a deep breath of the night air.

“Hello, Nick.”

Startled, he turned to find Mrs. Anderson gently swaying in the porch swing.

“Did I scare you?” she asked in apology. “I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. I thought everyone was in bed,” he said, walking closer. He leaned against the porch railing, crossing his ankles and resting his palms on the rail behind him.

“Sometimes on hot nights I like to come down and swing for a while. Walter—Laura's father—and I used to do this, and I can't seem to break the habit. It's a bit lonelier now, though, so I'm glad to have some company,” she said without a trace of self-pity.